


Beautiful like a sunrise.

by smallbump



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Tronnor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4127623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallbump/pseuds/smallbump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor flies to Australia for Troye's birthday. The morning after being out drinking, they decide to watch the sunrise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful like a sunrise.

The short, skinny boy dressed in only his own skin and the faded hickeys from earlier snores quietly next to Troye, who is unable to fall asleep. Not because of jetlag or bad thoughts or even the outside world distracting him from drifting off to sleep and for the potential weird dreams he’s been having these past days to come alive.

So he’s lying on his side, duvet half-covering his naked body, the other half loosely thrown over Connor, whose face is close enough to Troye that he can feel every breath coming out of his mouth. It smells of toothpaste and a distinct smell of alcohol he’d been having earlier in the night. Connor was fast to fall asleep; barely a proper goodnight kiss was given before he was out. But Troye doesn’t blame him. Jetlag takes time and he knows alcohol makes Connor sleepy, as well as sex, Troye sometimes teases him for being exhausted even after quick fuck, _“You old man,”_ he jokes but kisses Connor oh so sweetly, fully on the mouth with tongue and everything because he’s not that old and it’s fine. It’s fine, as long as they’re close and next to each other everything is fine.

Troye is still in quite shock Connor came all the way to Australia for his birthday. It hadn’t been settled, only discussed. And frankly, he never thought he’d go through with it. It’s only a few days and such a long flight, is he really worth it?

_“I want to come.”_

_“But it’s a 15 hour flight just to get to Sydney, and you’ve been in the UK just days before, it’s fine.”_

_“Babe, stop, I can handle it,”_

_And then he shut up because– Okay. Fine. “Fly across the world for me then,” Troye had mumbled, as Connor’s arms found their way around his waist, as Connor had nuzzled his nose into Troye’s neck, as Connor began to kiss his way up to his mouth.  
“I just might,” Connor had whispered against his jaw and placed soft, sweet and frankly unforgettable kisses on his skin._

After flying for almost a whole day, here he is. In Australia, celebrating Troye’s birthday with him and his family and all his friends.  
Lying naked in Troye’s bed, breathing on him in an even pace. Troye is smiling to himself as he’s watching Connor sleep peacefully, wondering how he got so lucky. Troye is awake because he is so incredibly happy that no dream his subconscious self could ever think of would top the one he is living right now.

It’s like his life has been a thousand piece puzzle and he finally found the missing one, it’s like a crossword he finally solved, it’s like a labyrinth he finally figured how to get out of. It’s every stupid metaphor for figuring your life out he could think of.

He stretches his arm out to search for his phone on the bedside table behind him to look at the time, almost blinding himself in the process. It’s almost six am. Maybe the sunrise is soon.  
Troye looks back to Connor, the lover of all sunsets, and wonders if a sunrise is just as good. Troye knows he’s not going to sleep this night or early morning, might as well use it to something good other than staring at his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who has been asleep now for almost four hours, four hours longer than Troye so he’s not allowed to complain. Besides, it might be romantic. Just the two of them on a beach, at six am… Troye can’t believe he’s doing this. _(Romantic things? Who is he?)_

After dropping the phone between them, he shakes Connor’s shoulder, “Con?”

Under the thin duvet, Troye search for Connor’s waist instead, pulling the sleeping boy towards him the best he can, “Con, wake up,”

He’s gentle and careful. Trying not to be too close to Connor’s face. The last time he tried that; kissing him awake because surely that must be a cute thing to do as newly boyfriend and boyfriend? No, he got hit in the face. So romantic.  
Connor is not a fan of having things near his face when he wakes up; Troye learned that the hard way.

_“I thought it was a fly or something!” Connor had defended himself, full of guilt._

There’s a mumble coming from Connor’s slightly parted lips, something so incoherent and inaudible, Troye just shakes him a bit more, “Connor,”

“No,” is all Connor has the energy to moan out annoyingly, a completely different moan from the ones hours ago when they consisted of Troye’s name too and fuck and shit and oh my god.

He’s smiling now, so he’s awake and Troye sighs. It’s reminding him of the smile Connor had on his face when they met at the airport; the grin went from ear to ear, shining through the crowd of people trying to find their way out. Connor, with the sleepy eyes and wide smile, the messy hair and casual clothes, walked with quick steps, shuffled his way to Troye.  
Troye could never get tired of those meetings; the hello’s and the I’ve missed you-hugs.

(He’s blocking out the goodbyes’ out of his mind. Not so soon.) 

“Connor, please.”

A muffled groan comes from Connor; he buries his face in the pillow at the same time before moving back to look at Troye, squinting his eyes a bit. It’s not even bright in his room, Troye smiles widely, “Hi grumpy,”   
If Connor wasn’t so tired, he’d be rolling his eyes and protesting by now, with some comment about how it’s rude to wake people up so early, even though he probably has no idea what time it is.

But he doesn’t, instead he just lies there, blinking slowly, looking at Troye, waiting for an explanation of some sort.

Troye is shifting where he lies, “I can’t sleep–“ And Connor is about to speak but he gets shut up, “ – so no, you aren’t allowed either.”

It’s a quiet moment of tiny, tired laughs shared between them, bodies stretched and eyes rubbed before Troye speaks again.

“I thought we could go see the sunrise? And then I’ll buy us breakfast, okay?” 

“Okay,” Connor simply replies. He’s really not hard to win over, or maybe he’s just so tired he doesn’t know what it is that he’s agreeing on doing. Troye places a kiss on his forehead and gets out of bed, Connor following slowly after.

They get dressed quietly, tiptoeing their way out of the house so they won’t wake up the others and begins to walk.

*** 

They sit down on the grass, just before the sand begins, shoulders bumping and they share a glance before looking over at the ocean. The wind is still, but it’s not as warm as it was the last time they were here. Troye pulls up the zipper on his jacket further and the sleeves further down over his hands. Connor begins telling him about a weird dream he had and after that the conversation floats evenly between them.

It’s not warm, but it’s nice. It’s quiet and peaceful, watching the water slowly reach the shoreline, only to be brought back, fading into the black ocean again and it reminds Troye of this quote he read once.

> _“ There’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it’s sent away. ”_

It stuck with him ever since, imprinted in his mind like a little reminder.

That’s how he wants to live his life, always loving no matter what. Never giving up. He wants to be a fighter, in a good way, and never lose. Troye wants to keep fighting until everything is right and good and safe, until there’s no pain. Until happiness is the permanent feeling in his chest.

“Why did you take me here?” Connor says after awhile, when he finally got the perfect angle of the beautiful sunrise that unfolds in front of them. Sometimes Troye teases him for always taking pictures of everything, but secretly, he loves it.  
He loves the simple beauty Connor can capture. For other people, it’s just a sunrise or maybe a simple plant or a tree. For Connor, it’s art. It’s an opportunity to appreciate the earth and the nature. It’s a chance to start fresh. And sometimes a chance to overanalyse a simple flower but that’s just Connor being Connor.  
Connor is deep like that, and Troye loves it. Everything he captures into photographs turns into art, although Troye often wonders if Connor himself isn’t the real art in this world. 

“Thought it’d be romantic,”

Connor smiles, “This is where we first kissed,” he says then.

“See! Romantic!” Troye looks at Connor, “Tell me you’re not loving this.”

Connor is sitting beside him with a big grin on his face that’s been on his lips since they saw the first glimpse of the sun. The redness on his cheeks and the giggle escaping his mouth gives it away too. He brings his legs up and wraps his arms around them, leaning his head down but still looking at Troye, smiling. Constantly smiling.

“You’re so cute,” he says quietly, a bit muffled but Troye figures it out. He wonders how long this feeling will last, how many months they can spend together and how many compliments they can shower each other with before the butterflies in Troye stomach will disappear and the rushing feeling in his chest will be nothing but the normal beating of his heart, before a compliment is simply a compliment and not a secret way of saying I love you. Troye never wants Connor to stop making him feel this way. 

He scrunches his nose as he looks down at Connor, whose phone is out again and Troye is pretty sure he is taking pictures again. But it’s fine, everything is so fucking fine.  
  
The sun is out completely, shining big and bright at them and Troye has to squint his eyes just glancing at it, so he keeps his eyes on Connor instead, someone much more beautiful either way.

“Thank you for coming,” 

“Don’t forget you promised me breakfast, Troye boy.”  
  
“I meant to Australia, for my birthday and everything,” Troye clarifies.

Connor stretches out his legs for a moment, and then stands up only to crouch down to Troye again, face near his. “I know,” he smiles and kisses Troye on the cheek, “Come on, I’m hungry,”  
Troye wonders how Connor can act so at ease with this whole thing. He _flew across the world_ for Troye but is acting like it’s the most normal thing to do for your boyfriend’s birthday.

***

A café a few blocks down opened at 7am, when they get inside it is only an older couple sitting in one of the corners, probably regulars Troye assume, by the way the waitress talk to them. Jazz music pour out of the speakers on a low volume, the sun shining in through the big windows.

“Cappuccino?”  
  
“Yeah,” Connor nods and goes to take a seat further into the big room, Troye’s eyes follow him as he sits down at a four-seat table, tapping his fingers against the wooden table.

“Good morning,” A voice says, getting his attention. The waitress is now in front of him, behind the desk and smiling her sweet service-smile.

“Hi, uhm, two cappuccino’s and eh, some kind of sandwich, what to do you have?”

She begins to explain their breakfast deal with a coffee of choice, a sandwich and freshly pressed orange juice, or something like that. Troye is half-listening. Running on zero hours of sleep is starting to get to him, “I’ll take two of those, thanks,” he replies and pays before going over to Connor. 

“You tired?” He asks immediately as Troye sits down in front of him, as well as smiling sympathetically, head tilted a bit. Connor looks concern and Troye wants to hug him for it, he appreciates it more than he should. Like Connor is willing to take care of him, whatever he needs, Connor got it.

Troye only yawns in response and they both laugh about it. 

“Who knew you need sleep to function properly?”

“Who knew?” Connor laughs, his sweet, sweet laugh and Troye’s heart aches from feeling too much love. Too much affection and admiration for another person. It’s scary and wonderful at the same time, and he wonders if maybe it’s just the tiredness that’s talking or if maybe he truly is this in love.  
  
The waitress come out with their breakfast, they thank her politely before digging in, remaining silent for a while, focusing on shutting up the growling sound coming from their stomach and making their heavy eyelids feel at least a little bit lighter.  
Connor shows him the pictures he took. The pictures of Troye, leaning down and smiling so wide it makes his cheeks hurt just from looking at them. He looks ridiculous – ridiculously happy. Connor says it’s his new favourite picture of Troye he’s ever taken and he has taken _a lot._ Connor probably has more pictures of Troye from the past year and a half than his mother has baby pictures of him. It’s all so ridiculous but it’s fine.  
Connor posts the sunrise to Instagram with a cheesy caption about enjoying life and yourself, and keeps the more personal ones to himself.

“Your parents are probably wondering where the hell we are,” he chuckles, Troye offers a quick smile.

His folded arms rest on the table as he looks out the window, breathing in slowly. He’s never been to this café before but it’s quickly become one of his favourites. The atmosphere is calming and nice, Troye would sit here for hours if he could but Connor’s probably right. “Yeah, we’ll go soon.”

“ _I’m_ not in a hurry,” he clarifies, “Just thought.”

“The perfect son-in-law,” Troye jokes but really not. Connor truly is. His parents love him to pieces, always asks about him. His siblings too.  
The blush on Connor’s cheeks is completely obvious no matter how hard he tries to cover it with his hands. Troye leans forward and takes Connor’s hands in his; pulling them away from his face so he can kiss his lips. He lingers on for a moment; it’s been a while since they kissed. Half an hour or so. Either way, it’s been too long. He can feel Connor holding on to his hands firmly, clearly not wanting to let go and to feel that is one of the best feeling ever. Like he just cannot get enough.  
  
“The perfect everything,” he then whispers against Connor’s lips, Connor kisses him back as a thank you. Or as a ‘you too’, Troye’s honestly not sure. 

After an hour or so, they wave goodbye and leave the café. It’s warmer outside by now. Troye is glancing over at Connor as they’re walking home, whose eyes are stuck on the couple in front of them, holding hands and laughing brightly together.

“Holding hands is such an underrated thing to do,” he says after a while.

“We never do,” Troye points out.

“Maybe we should start.” 

Connor takes his hand firmly, linking their fingers together. He squeezes Troye’s hand as it lies comfortably in his, and they share a kiss before continuing their walk back home to Troye’s house, the sun shining big and bright behind them. Troye’s heart is beating faster now, he’s got the butterflies in his stomach and he has to bite his lip from smiling awkwardly at everyone they meet.

It’s just he and his boyfriend, walking home after breakfast. _Holding hands without a care in the world._ It shouldn’t affect him like this. They walk for a while and Troye is trying so hard to stay completely calm, collected. But it’s hard. This _is_ big; it’s huge.  
It’s hard because when he glances over at Connor again, his eyes are shiny, and he’s trying not to smile too much either. When he notices Troye’s eyes on his, he looks over. Squeezes the hand in his again, “Who knew holding hands could give you butterflies?” He whispers.

“Who knew?”


End file.
